- Chapter Forty-Five -

There Is A Light

"What are some of your favorites?" Swaying in the breeze and enjoying his own beer as the spoke, considering how ecstatically the heiress had replied to his last inquiry, Nathan wasn't expecting a concrete answer. Sure she probably had first editions of everything, and in triplicate at that, however as an avid reader himself, he was always excited to meet another. "You strike me like a total Poe girl."

Really? Freaking everyone was all about Poe! Sure, some of his stuff was interesting (and her father had had a fair deal of it), it just never really clicked with her. "Hardly." Scoffing, there were several authors and works that the girl enjoyed, however she went with the first one to come to mind. "Too morbid, and I get enough crap as it is. Although, if we're talking mainstream, I really enjoy Gatsby. The twenties were an interesting time, and there's just something about the way Fitzgerald describes it all... I don't know. It's probably the most cliché answer, but it's the closest thing to romance I like."

"Pretty dark for romance." Nate chuckled, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable enough to tease, "Sure you don't mean that glowy vampire chick-lit? Or the one with the arrows? From what I hear there was a very compelling love-triangle."

Suppressing a shudder, Daniella broke her unspoken connection with Sam for the first time. "Eww. Vampire fiction isn't really my thing. And romance?" Sneering at the very idea, the bitterness flowed like poisoned honey. "My parents wanted an intellectual, so they never left me a lot in way of the genre. I'll give you familial love, but romantic love is the biggest lie they will ever sell us. Good for the ones that want to be told the world revolves around love, but come on, we all know that isn't really the case. There's lust, co-dependence, and even mutual benefit, but hearts-and-flowers, dancing all night under the lights just to be close, one soul for life? No."

Cut by the icy cynicism in the young woman even though it wasn't necessarily being directed at him, the younger Drake brother was no longer sure about telling his wife they had lost Cassie at sea and were in need of a handy replacement daughter. "Ouch."

"In general." Realizing her error a second too late, she added hastily, "There's an exception to every rule, I find."

Better, he thought to himself as some of the sting was eased. Elena alone worth more than the sum of every treasure he had ever seen, the band-aid wouldn't be ready to come off anytime soon, but at least it was a start. "You must have been a fun prom date."

Nerve touched, Daniella began to clam back up, "I... wouldn't know."

Air freezing over in a rock-hard sheen around the young woman, the happily married father of one may as well have asked her about how last year's father-daughter dance went. And speaking of fathers and daughters and the sacred bond they could share, while the heiress was cooling off Cassie let out rather long yawn. Little bones sore and the skin that much tougher for the next day, the blonde was ready for bed, even if she didn't want to admit it. Figuring that Elena would probably be at least another hour (seriously, if they charged for what they lost in food alone, they could charter a second crew), Nathan decided unilaterally that it was time to put Cass down. Usually she was pretty good about minding the rules, but every year around this time she got rather lax.

Grateful for the interruption, Nate set his beer on the balcony and stood up, clearing his throat as he rose. "Cass? Care to walk your old man to bed?"

Stopping the song at the second verse, the child tried to stifle another yawn and failed magnificently. "But the night - ghhummmm - the night is still so young..." Looking for any excuse to prolong her practice and enjoy the weather a little longer (despite being that tired), the blonde didn't have to scan her surroundings long to catch the way Sam's girlfriend was trying to slide under him from her seat. What else could it be called, when her leg was pretty much glued to his, the rest of her body leaning cockeyed? She's totally trying to steal third!

"You're younger. Come on Cass, I still have to clean up the kitchen before your mom gets back from the store." Taking the guitar from his daughter, Nathan motioned her to get the plate, since apparently no one was going to touch the last sandwich. Sam must've been really out of sorts, to not even bother; ever since... well, forever, Nate hadn't known his big brother to skimp on a meal when there was enough to go around. "We both know your mom will ground me if she sees that you're still up at this hour on a school night."

"Then who'll keep an eye on these two?" Still undecided on how she felt about her uncle's 'friend', the girl was at the age where she didn't completely entirely know what it was couples (or anyone in a relationship for that matter) did. Under the impression that it was inappropriate or bad, Cassie had the feeling that the minute they were left alone, they would be right at it. Whatever IT was.

Aware that there was something between his big brother and Rafe's little girl - something that was probably better off unexplored - Nathan knew that whatever ended up happening, it was their business. He and Elena had only asked that they keep it clean around their daughter. "Eh, I'm not worried." Whatever there was, there was a stagnation, "But if it makes you feel any better, the big one will watch the little one, and the little one...?"

"Will watch the big one." Cassie finished the sentence for her father.

Not entirely convinced that they would behave, another ear-popping yawn did sway the blonde that it was indeed her bedtime. Not that she would confess that out loud. "Hear that? You two better be good!"

Daniella couldn't help but grin at the fire in Cassie, "Night, little Cassiopeia. Night." She and Nathan nodded to one another. In terms of address, the heiress wanted so badly to call him Mr. Drake, but there were a few things preventing her from letting the honorific past her lips. Mostly it was that she had called Sam Mr. Drake for so long that it just felt strange. It wasn't like it was a pet name or anything, it was just... It wasn't right.

Sam waved at the departing pair, but not one of them bought for a second that he was really behind the motion.

"Good night." Grabbing the plate (and sandwich), like her mother before her she scarfed the cold bread with unexpected fervor, following all the way to the front door. "Hmm," Cass reflected as she chewed, now speaking exclusively to her father, "that's a good sandwich. I see you've upped your cooking stats by one."

Man, people always used to go on about how girls were delicate things like flowers, but dammit if he wasn't getting cut by hidden shivs on all sides today. Too bad Chloe's missing out on this, he mused dryly. "One? Really? That sandwich is at least two times better than last time! You know it."

Cassie shrugged as they went inside, Sam and Daniella as good as forgotten in the middle of the debate. "Meh. Maybe if you had set out a side dish to balance out the sticky-sweetness..."

Out of earshot so that that rest of the sentence was scarce more than white noise, Daniella politely closed the door behind them and returned to her seat. Eyes on the sea earlier that night, the constant pounding of the deep blue had stirred a few things within the heiress - she had even thought about stealing Sam away to lure him out behind the office - but her talk with Nathan had killed that. It was a good talk to be sure, and so nice to get back to the thoughts of the page, however it brought up more than anticipated.

Liquid courage an apt name for it, the young woman nursed what was left in her bottle before looking at Sam. Tilting her head, she wondered if he even realized that the others had gone back inside. He's so quiet lately... Is he mad at me? The thief was roughly a third of the way through his beer, but from what she could tell he hadn't missed a single drink. What happened that day?

Drinks only going to do so much to get her through what had to be done, Daniella figured she'd try to multi-task. "Is there a green light?" Speaking directly to her protector, a part of her was expecting to have to repeat herself half a hundred times before he resounded, only that turned out to not be the case at all.

"Huh?" The brunette's eyes became a little less glazed over and he looked up first at where his niece had been sitting, then to where his companion waited patiently for an answer.

"At the end of the pier. Is there a green light?"

Of course she'd read Gatsby. Shaking the stupor off and running his fingers through his hair, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of smokes he'd picked up at the convenience store last night. So much for the bet this year. "I haven't seen one." Putting the cigarette between his teeth, he drew his lighter and lit up.

Eyes closed, the ex-con took a moment to truly appreciate just how long he had managed to go without.

"Well could you show me anyways?" Thinking she was clumsily trying to flirt by 'accidentally' bumping her leg against his, the ghost that had formerly been Dells reached out and touched his arm.

The young woman wished she had the nerve to be completely honest, to just say that she had something to ask him but was too scared to hear the answer. It wasn't much, but her plan was to hope that by the time they reached the end of their walk she'd either find the courage or just magically forget what had been on her mind. Maybe it was just the haircut emboldening her - frankly she couldn't be sure - but for the stronger thing that had taken the reigns, there wasn't enough of an overhaul to give her true courage.

Telling her to go herself was clearly not an option, as she still refused to go anywhere without a chaperon. The hotel was the worst. Staying under the guise of a couple (thanks to her clinginess at the front desk and Rafael's big stupid mouth), the closest she came to independence was when it came to the bathroom. At times he wondered if she was hoping for a repeat of what had happened the last time they had been together in a hotel room, although if that was the case, having him stand with his back to the open door was a tad counter-productive. Thankfully Elena had volunteered to take his place when and where she could, but like now the woman wasn't always around.

Breathing the ash back into his lungs with distaste and some fleeting semblance of relief, Sam answered the wind chime, "Whatever."

"Or we could just sit here..." crumbling like the Daniella of yesterday, the heiress mimicked the motion of running her fingers through her hair, the severed length reminding her of how far she had (and hadn't) come, "But where's the fun in that?"

Hesitant to take the lead, she tightened her grip on his arm and encouraged him with force to get up; admittedly curious to see where she thought this was going to go, Sam allowed her to bring them down the stairs and across half the beach. Wordlessly, as he watched her drag him along he thought back to the Dells he knew. Or, thought he knew. That girl wouldn't have been bold enough to even look at him if they'd suddenly found themselves alone, and yet there she was, lacing her arms around his and nuzzling close.

For warmth... Right?

She might not claim to remember anything that had happened after cutting her hair in the bathroom, but he could tell that there was something different about the girl.

"I think this is us." Indeed they had arrived at the dock, but she wasn't budging one way or another. "What happened, after I blacked out?" Daniella hoped that she wouldn't have to ask him to give her credit and just give it to her straight, but she would if it came down to it. The thief had made it clear that he wasn't going to be her friend after all of this was said and done, but that didn't mean that they couldn't respect one another as peers. Surely she'd earned that much? "I'm not an idiot - I can tell that you're dwelling on something. And this," half expecting him to catch her wrist, she gingerly glossed her fingertips across a bruise that hadn't been there before, "it wasn't your brother, I don't think."

So she does care after all. It was good to know that much.

Flesh still tender from where she kicked him, Sam closed his eyes as she ghosted over her own handiwork. He'd been anticipating this moment, but that didn't make it any less difficult to find the right words to use. Did he just brush it off and lie? He was quite accomplished at that, and she was far too naive to even think twice about whatever he said to her. She'd believe me if I told her the sky was falling down around us... But why would she do something so dumb as believe a known rapscallion? Under pressure the theory might not hold up, but as things stood presently, Dells seemed to see something good when she looked at him. Maybe good was a stretch, but definitely not shitty.

Not like everyone else.

Perplexed by the mere suggestion that someone could see something worthwhile in him, it secretly kind of terrified him. At first it had been amusing and even endearing, but it was only because the girl didn't know him, what kind of a guy he really was. What he tried to put off. But surely by now she should have seen something - anything - to give her pause. He hadn't even been the one to save her this last time, and yet she still clung to him as if he had. Fear. It had to be that she was just as scared as he was, so she was willing to grab to any one thing that had presented itself.

Just look at Rafael! She could deny it all she wanted to, but there was definitely something in her eyes when she first saw him.

Nate, Elena, and even Cassie would back him up if he convinced them it was important to him that he be the hero Daniella thought he was, so what was keeping the good doctor from being the patsy? More than capable of weaving a believable tale of how a brewing argument had broken out into an actual fight between himself and the kid, Sam was in a position to make it so that she loathed the little gizzard. If he so desired.

Remembering the look on her face when he found her curled up on top of him on the couch, honestly he couldn't say he hated the thought of Dells having only one savior in her life. Inconvenient as that might be in the grand scheme of things.

Yet that outcome was only if he chose to lie to her now, to sweep the truth under the rug where her manicured nails would never dare think to look. Although the hand locked in the crook of his elbow didn't seem to be very smooth or glitzy. In fact, from what he remembered of the stubborn little brat in her bra, her hands were always scratched up and dirty, as if she'd just come from hard labor and not a manor house. Manor house, he could have shaken his head at the redundancy.

How is it that one little girl had him so mixed up?!

Moonlight lending an ethereal silvery shine to her bleached locks, Daniella still looked so much like her father that it almost hurt, and yet the woman at his side looked nothing like Rafe or Bai. For just a moment, she was person he'd never met before, someone that he could want to get to know better. Just for a moment.

Author's Note:

Yay, fifty chapters down! *celebrates*

And honestly I would love the chance to get to read more Poe myself. As with everything else in this story, it's all what the characters themselves think or feel, and isn't necessarily my own opinion. Some of it is (I am human lol), but not everything.